


Drabbles and Unfinished Stories

by Webtrinsic



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Dad!Tony, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Parenthood, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Son!Peter, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-09-22 16:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 11,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: If you want more of my content look no further, here are either unfinished works I will get back to possibly if I ever get the inspiration back. And Stories that simply can't stand alone on their own, or drabbles that I had no other place for.(Please do not ask for me to finish fics, or if you can finish them for me.)PSA: Aside from the disneyland fic which I have no idea when is coming out, I'm going to take a break from the spiderman fandom. Its very redundant and my inspiration to even write the fics I'd planned is so hard, I'm going to write a few non spiderman pics likely on a different account (If you want the link let me know)  but this fandom has been going down a bit and been cruel which hasn't been helping my writing funk. I'll be back to spiderman, he'll have cameos in the new Fics Ill be doing, but he won't be the focus for a while. I hope you all understand.





	1. Misunderstandings -Unfinished-

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind some of these are like a year old and written horribly, but at least you can see how much I've gotten better over the years. Also these aren't entirely edited either so just a disclaimer!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter overhears something and takes it the wrong way

Tony yawned, pulling himself from the sheets with a soft smile. Waking up early wasn’t what made him happy though, it was being able to wake his son up that made did. Padding down the hall, Tony opened the door and looked in at the crib.  Squinting confused, Tony saw the two-year-old was already up in his crib hugging his stuffed bear.

“Good morning sweetheart,” Tony hummed, moving to pick the toddler up. Peter frowned, face angry as he looked up at the man. The philanthropist frowned at that, watching as Peter turned away with a disgruntled look.

“Bad morning then,” Tony sighed, dropping to his knees and lowering the side of the crib, “Come here Bambi,” Instead of Peter crawling up into his arms like he hoped, the boy threw the bear at his face.

“Oh you’re mad at your old man,” Tony countered, eyebrow quirking before reaching to pick his son up. A big mistake because the second he did, Peter shrieked loud enough to hurt the man’s ears. Upset Tony set the boy down, facing the boy’s adorable pout. The toddler turned away, situating himself with his back to his father.

“Now why are you cranky?” The inventor asked again, reaching forward carefully and pulling the boy back into his lap. Peter thankfully didn’t shriek, but he did frown and jut his bottom lip out. His little face red with anger.

That anger didn’t last long, the poor baby simply sobbed. Wriggling as Tony stood and took him to eat, trying to bounce the boy lightly in assurance but it didn’t do much. Peter still didn’t look at him.  Tony didn’t want to admit his heart had begun to hurt, his already low confidence withering. He’d also been up late the night before, his headspace wasn’t quite as strong. The father’s eyes widened, realizing his mistake.

“I forgot to tuck you in, didn’t I sweetheart?” The inventor asked gently, cupping the little boy’s face so they could look at one another.

Brown doe eyes, watering and a little red stared into his very soul. But the little boy nodded, tiny hands uncurling from his chest and moving to hold Tony’s goatee. The inventors own eyes watered, eyes falling shut as he kissed the little boy’s head.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart,” The avenger apologized, kissing the tears off the little boy’s face.

“‘T ‘kay,” the little boy whispered. Pressing a sloppy kiss to his father's cheek. Tony blushing, wiping away his own tears with his free hand. Assured their little bump had been passed over.

\---

The six-year-old looked at his bleeding knee, whimpers falling from his lips. The broken plate he’d dropped cut his feet, only causing more tears. Peter didn’t shout, but he wanted to o . He’d been raised to be polite, maybe daddy wouldn’t mind if he cried out for him.

“Daddy!” The little boy cried, not wanting to walk forward and step on more glass, “Daddy!” Seconds later Peter could hear the loud and quick footfalls of his father.

“Baby?” The little boy couldn’t help notice the armor clinging to his father’s arms and chest. Almost as if he’d believed someone was trying to hurt him, “Oh baby,” the billionaire breathed out. Scooping the little boy up carefully, Peter buried his face in his dad’s throat.

“Don’t worry Bambi. Daddies going to take care of you,” 

“Daddy, I’m sorry for yelling,” Peter sniffled, Tony shaking his head against his hair before settling Peter down in med-bay.

“No baby, you did the right thing. When you’re hurt, whenever you need me. All you gotta do is speak up,”  Peter nodded in understanding.

\---

The thirteen-year-old held his lab report against his chest, the red _A+_ held tightly against his rapidly beating heart. Peter stopped short at the office door, hearing his father likely talking on the phone.

“Did you think I wanted to be stuck with a responsibility I didn’t have any control over?”

“…”

“A disappointment is what I’ve been given!”

“….”

“If I could get rid of it I would,” Tony continued, pacing the office.

Peter felt tears falling down his face, he was a disappointment. His father didn’t want him, he didn’t love him. Dropping the report and running down the hall, Peter sobbed into his pillows, before shooting up and angrily ripping his backpack from the hook.

Shoving his clothes from the hangers and drawers into the backpack, Peter stealthily made his way to the tower's elevator bringing himself to the first level. If his father didn’t want him, then he’d leave.

Maneuvering through the crowds of people, who didn’t seem to care he’d been so obviously crying. The teen yipped when a hand clasped around his throat, dragging him into an alley where his backpack was yanked off.

Hurting his arms in the process, they kicked him mercilessly as he writhed on the floor. Peter didn’t have the heart to get up. Accepting his fate, sobbing in his worthlessness the boy went limp.   His father didn’t want him. The world only wanted to hurt him and he just couldn’t bring himself to be concerned for his own well-being. The kick to his head he welcomed in that it resulted in the closest thing to sleep.

\---

Tony looked down at his son in the infirmary bed, Jarvis had informed him Peter had been upset about something, packed a bag and left. The father had broken his phone in his haste to get outside and pick up his kid.

He’d been horrified at what he’d found, his suit had gone off on its own to find whoever had hurt his child while searching for his backpack. 

“Why’d he run off?” Tony couldn’t help but ask his AI, hand gently stroking his son’s bruised cheek.

“He may have misinterpreted your call about the Jefferson deal,”

“Misinterpreted how?” Tony scrunched his nose confused, but before JARVIS spoke up Peter’s eyes opened.

“Hey sweetheart,” the billionaire cooed


	2. Hammering out the dents   -Unfinished-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter upset after the Vulture is whisked into working for Justin Hammer

When Peter and Ned escaped school at the sound of the bell. Peter didn't think he'd be approached by one of Tony Stark's top competitors. Both in weapons and now everything else. But, of course, Tony didn't sell weapons anymore, not that Peter actually cared. It'd been quite a while since the boat and his misadventures in vigilantism.

"Peter!" The man said excitedly, causing Ned to jump. More focused on the slick car in front of him. Before his focus turned to the tall confident dirty blonde who was looking at Peter as if he were a fallen angel. Justin Hammer. Peter's eyes widened when a white-gloved hand was placed on his shoulder, "Why don't we have a talk?" Hammer smiled.

His tone continuously drawing the younger in. Peter truly understood why he was such a good businessman. He sounded as if he knew what you wanted before even you did. And maybe he did. Maybe that was why he was here.

Hammer led the young boy a few paces away from Ned to truly address him. Making him feel like he was the only person whose attention was worth his time. And Peter couldn't help but return the smile aimed at him. Maybe it was the nerves, or maybe the man's smile was just that infectious.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Peter," He offered his free hand. Never once pulling the one on the boy's shoulder away. It kept Peter grounded since his head was floating with the fact another genius billionaire was giving him the time of day. But he was...warmer, more approachable than Tony had been. Peter was sure he was being treated as an equal and enjoyed it to no end.

Peter shook his hand back, "It's nice to meet you." He silently cursed when his stutter hit his tongue on the T, but Hammer didn't seem to mind.

"The pleasure's mine Mr. Parker. How'd you like to grab a coffee, get that bag off your shoulders? Then we can talk, too noisy out here."

"Um...yeah, yeah that'd be okay," Peter responded after a second, not noticing the Audi pull up behind him, or Ned's jaw drop from both his eavesdropping and when Tony Stark got out of the car.

Eyes burning at his rival's hand on the young genius' shoulder, and the two so obviously lost in their conversation that they didn't even notice him. Happy got out of the car tersely, assessing if the arms dealer was any threat to the boy he dearly wished to apologize to.

Hammer moved and led Peter to the car, unintentionally blocking the boy from the two’s view. Keeping a firm hand on the boy's shoulder as he opened the car door. Peter stepped forward, just about to slide in until another arm pulled him back.

"Don't they teach you, kids, not to get in the car with strangers?"

"Ah Mr. Stark, fancy meeting you here," Hammer spoke conversationally, keeping his hand on the top of the open door.

"Yeah, funny seeing you here. Kidnapping my intern," Tony spit, his hand preoccupying the space on Peter's shoulder and held tight. Peter hated it. Cringed at how it hadn’t been as comforting as Hammer's had.  Detested how he was once again "my intern" when he'd been abandoned. And he absolutely loathed how he worded it. He wasn't Tony's anything, let alone his responsibility.

"Didn't you let him go? Then again you always threw out anyone that could possibly care about you, let alone work well with you," Hammer struck back.

"You're bothering my kid so you can use him to find out what he knows about me. But you're wasting your time. He doesn't know anything," Tony stated with venom dripping from his tongue.  The thought hurt Peter's head but the ache quickly went away at Hammer's words.

"I don't want anything other than an intern, and you let him go like he was nothing. He's smart, incredibly so. And I must be smarter than you for wanting to give him a chance for a great future. Other than you showing up and leaving him only to say he's yours again when a new offer is up."

"You don't know what you're talking about," The man of Iron growled, Peter hadn't noticed the inventor's hand had practically dug into his shoulder. But he couldn't bring himself to move away.

Hammer just wanted to talk. It was just a talk. It wasn't anything else. Didn't he have the right to decide? Wasn't he capable of something as little as a conversation? Hammer was giving him the freedom to choose for himself, Tony wasn't. Jerking from the heroes touch, Peter got in the car.

Hammer shut the door behind the boy, winking at the shocked hero before making his way to the driver's side. The slam of the door and revving of the engine not nearly enough to spur him into grabbing the door handle. But they'd already pulled away. And Tony helplessly watched the sleek silver car faded away into the cities traffic and turn the corner.

"He just did that," Ned gaped. Looking at the two frazzled adults. Tony's face carefully blank as he silently pivoted on his heel and got into the backseat of the car. Upping the divider before burying his head in his hands.  Happy stepped in a moment later, driving the man home. Unwilling to lower the divider, it didn't matter anyway; he wouldn't have known what to say in the first place.

\---

"My Type," by Saint Motel started to play throughout the vehicle. Hammer’s gloved hand moving gracefully in turning the dial so the music grew louder. Peter smiled at that. The upbeat music, the swaying and joyful singing of the older man. It helped rid the fingers Peter still felt digging into his shoulder.

Pulling up to a quaint little coffee shop as the song ended, Peter moved to get out. The gloved returned to his shoulder.

"Are you alright Peter? I know it was probably hard running into him. But you should know I'm here for you, not who you once worked with."

Peter nodded, "Thank you. I'll... I'll be okay," The pair walked inside, the teen moving to grab his wallet. Hammer chuckling and assuring the boy he got it. Peter knew he wouldn't be able to sit still if he drank any coffee so he opted for some hot chocolate now that the weather had been getting cooler.

This made the older man smile as he surprised the teen by rather than sitting across from him, he sat beside him. Something about too much real estate between them. The two quickly began talking about all the things Peter wanted to make. Genuine smiles lighting their faces as they built off each other's ideas. Hammer swiftly pulled out a special calling card he'd had made for the boy before offering to take him home.

He hadn't realized they'd been there for at least four hours. He was a sweet kid he noted on the drive home. And in his mind, it ensured one thing. He was a smarter man than Mr. Stark.  _ Who in the right mind would let that boy go? _


	3. Just a little familiar -Unfinished-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen and Tony talk

The jet landed softly, and Tony nudged him. The inventor looked exhausted, as did Peter. Pale skin and sunken eyes, Peter had been dozing, dreaming of sleep. He'd been asked to help with a supposed alien in Nevada, and since then it had all gone downhill. Mr. Stark had broken his arm, it would have been worse if Peter hadn't tackled him.

Effectively blocking most of his armor, breaking three ribs and his left leg and arm. Tony had been livid, destroying the alien in seconds. With a sniffle, Peter rose. Tony stuffing a crutch under his arm before sliding an arm around his shoulder. Making sure he didn't trip when going down the steps.

Both legs wobbled, what Tony didn't know was Peter hadn't eaten in days. Nor had he slept. His healing factor had slowed, and his vision had grown dangerously blurry. He leaned further on his mentor then, earning a concerned caress through his hair before they slid into the car. Happy holding the door for them, and placing their things in the trunk.

"Why don't you get some sleep kiddo?" It wasn't a question, Peter knew this as his head lolled onto Mr. Stark's shoulder and the world grew dark.  He wasn't falling asleep, he was falling unconscious. 

"Happy hurry," Tony urged, hating how cold the kid's skin was. Especially now that he was unconscious, he wasn't subtle as he checked the kid's pulse. The billionaire’s calloused fingers pressing against his thin throat. _Weak_.

Happy sped up, and if he pressed a certain button that made sure they didn't hit any red lights. No one was around to know. A worry addled mind is what kept Tony up most nights, all nights. Now was no exception, even if he was tired and his arm ached. He needed to be there for Peter.

They arrived at the compound in record time, and the medics were waiting. Gingerly taking the boy from the billionaire's arms, laying him out on the stretcher. A multitude of diagnoses being made, a nurse checking his pupils with a flashlight as they scurried to the med bay.

Fatigue and malnourishment was the final diagnosis, leaving Tony to berate himself for not noticing sooner. He couldn't solely blame Peter for having such a poor handle on his health.  He knew by experience your health is the last thing you think of when you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.

The sleek metal cases of their suits lay a few feet away, maybe he could tweak Karen, throw in some reminders. Maybe then he'd at least remember to eat. He was sure getting the kid to sleep would be a much tougher act to follow. Karen gave a customary hello, a giggling sound. She hadn't spoken with her creator for some time. He smirked at the sound.

"Hello, Karen," he still wondered why that was the name the kid had decided on, but in some weird Peter way. It fit.  What he hadn't been expecting was for her to call him Anthony.

"Karen?" He asked amused, and she replied with a sound to prompt him to continue. "Did Peter ask you to call me that?"

"No, when referring to you when speaking with Peter you are Mr. Stark, you know that silly," She laughed.

"Then why did you call me that?" His voice was concerned, chest heaving. Memories of Ultron throwing him off kilter.

"I referred to you as Anthony because it relates you to Peter,"

"How?"

"You have programmed me to be sentient, to understand and comfort Peter and provide insight when needed. I care very much about my young charge and I've learned why he holds such an admiration for you," Tony could only bury his face in his hands.

"There are some recordings I've left out of your knowledge.  He's been through far too much and has dealt with more than most. Much like yourself, you share very distinct patterns in my coding," Karen spoke sounding much more serious than she had before. She really didn’t know how to interact with her creator.

“Recordings left out?” He asked incredulously, scolding the AI.

“It’s just us talking,” She assured, before adding, “In the safety of his home! And when we speak on patrol he’s normally on a little break,”


	4. Buried Alive and Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some ants bury other ants when they carry the scent that only dead ants let off. Let's just say Scott manages to get some on him.

Being Ant-Man didn’t bother him, sure the name seemed a little lame at times when compared to Captain America or Scarlet Witch. But then again there was an Iron-Man, and a Spider-Man. If his name was lame, then there’s was too! It’s not his fault though, Hank named himself!

He wondered what inspired him to be an Ant-themed hero, he got the shrinking thing but there’s plenty of other small creatures. Rollie pollies, ticks, flies, bed bugs, snails-wait why would you want to be a snail. You would have to go super slow, at least you’d have a shell but come on have you ever seen a snail's shell actually protect a snail from anything else than the rain

Maybe Hank was right about the ants, they had a monarchy...wait was he the queen Ant since he’s able to control them in a way? Scott sighed, looking down at the ant on the sidewalk that’d been stepped on by a random squirrel on the run.

Wasn’t there a squirrel girl? They’d have to have a talk about this. That thought was forgotten when he noticed another few ants come along, pick up the fallen and carry it away. Hank had probably picked ants because-well what's more human than burying your dead?

Elephant’s did-awe why couldn’t he be elephant man? He wasn’t just exclusive to turning small, he’d be huge too! Scott laughed and continued on to Luis's apartment, he could be size guy! Then again since its the same suit, that’d be a little confusing.

He kinda doubted anyone knew who he was anyway.


	5. Another sick spider story  -Unfinished-

When he'd woke in the morning his vision had blurred as he lifted his head. His joints shook in an effort to move them, and everything ached. He hadn't gone on patrol that night due to a headache he hoped would have cleared overnight.

"Peter I've been calling you to get up for minutes, I have that nurses conference to go to for the week," May said while opening the door, frowning and rushing to his side instantly. Framing his pale and sweaty face in her hands, he could tell she was seriously seconds away from canceling.

"I'm sorry," he apologized hoarsely. His throat burning and he almost pleaded for something to drink. But he settled on leaning into the cool hand's holding his face. Purring through his sore throat as she pressed her fingers into his hair.  
  
"That's okay," She whispered, noticing her voice had made him flinch before, but Peter hadn't seemed to notice that either.

"You should go," Peter murmured. Not wanting to keep her.

"You're sick sweetheart," She pressed, laying him back down. Tucking the blankets over his shivering frame, and frowning at the whimper when she'd removed her hands.

"You should go," he mumbled, lightly pressing against her hands in an attempt to get her on her way. The effort was enough to make him sweat but she continued to adjust the sheets. His eyes pulled at themselves in an attempt to stay open as he sank into the covers.

"I could call Mr. Stark," she said aloud, and Peter shook his head no. Not wanting to bother Tony either. He'd been sick before, of course, he hadn't had powers then. But it couldn't be any different now, could it? When Peter drifted out of consciousness May dialed Tony's number, and told him that she'd be leaving soon and that Peter wasn't feeling good. And she didn't know what she'd do.

Tony and Happy had arrived just seconds before she was out the door. She'd gave him a kiss on the cheek and a thank you, and he gladly returned the gesture and went to find Peter. Tony's heart clenched at the sight, Peter curled up on his bed. Body lax and pale, his features holding a touch of pink but otherwise remained sunken in.

He hadn't thought he would ever see the kid so still, but it seemed there was a first time for everything. Happy watched awkwardly, the plan took Peter back to the compound for the week until he was better or at least until May got back.

But even then Happy knew the second he'd heard, Tony wouldn't be leaving the kids side. Happy handed his boss the duffel bag he'd been instructed to bring and watched as Tony opened the closet and drawers and started packing. Mostly some sweats and T-shirts for him to sink into.

"Should I wake him?" Happy asked, and Tony instantly shook his head.

"Why don't you take this down to the car?" Tony asked, pulling Peter's desk chair out before handing Happy the duffel. Sitting on the creaking plastic, Tony carefully moved the bangs that stuck to the boy's forehead. Tony frowned at the mere heat resonating off the child.

Peter mumbled at the action, lightly chasing the cool weight that'd been there seconds ago. Whatever it was, it was colder than May's. Tony noticed the shift, placing his hand on the boy's forehead. His thumb lightly smoothing down the soft creases lining the boy's forehead. The teen sighed softly at the touch, and Tony couldn't help but smile.

"I'm sorry about this kiddo," the hero apologized, sliding his arms underneath the teen. Pressing Peter's head into his collarbone, and rising carefully.

He knew if he moved to quickly it'd likely upset the sick boy. Peter groaned, absently hiding his face in the man's lapels. Tony had almost laughed, knowing if Peter had been awake he'd had screamed and apologized for getting his suit dirty.


	6. Stalker danger

It's the buzzing of his phone against the wooden desk that draws his attention. It held no distinct ring, a thwip of webs for Peter, a calming chirp for Pepper and a honk for Happy. It wasn't Rhodey either, his ringer was a repulsor blast. Checking his watch and sighing, not realizing he'd been up so late. Which begged the question who was texting him at three in the morning.

His brow raised further at the sight, the name was blank. No number either. He could see a photo had been sent, and he hesitantly opened it.

His chest tightened at the picture, Peter asleep in bed. _Vulnerable_. A gloved hand reaching towards him. It was enough for FRIDAY to activate Karen. The spider drone awakening from the boy's suit, the camera turning on as it peaked from the small latch in the roof.

The small drone jumped, baffled at the emptiness of the room but otherwise turned its focused on the open window. Quickly flying forward to look out while Tony watched the screen tersely. No one was in sight, and again his phone buzzed. The same blank space where a name or number must be. But there were bold letters beneath.

MR. STARK, YOU MAY NOT KNOW WHO I AM. BUT THE WORLD CERTAINLY KNOWS YOU, I'VE TAKEN NOTICE OF YOUR PROTEGE. YOU'VE DEDICATED SUCH INTEREST IN THE YOUNG ONE, IT TRULY DRAWS ONES ATTENTION. MANY WOULD PAY THOUSANDS FOR A NEW WAY TO HURT YOU. AS YOUR FIANCE IS TOO FAR OUT OF REACH. I TRULY WONDER HOW MUCH SOMEONE WILL PAY FOR MR. PARKERS ADDRESS AND SCHEDULE. I PROMISE YOU, HE IS SAFE FOR NOW. BUT THAT WILL NOT LAST FOREVER.

The Billionaire straightened in his chair, rising carefully almost in shock. FRIDAY waiting for the order to send security and escorts to the Parker residence. He nodded, and she sent them away. Before he scrolled to Peter's number, still carefully watching the drones view. And Peter answered on the third ring, voice tired as he hid under the covers.

"Hello?" He mumbled tiredly, eyelids drooping. He hadn't even checked who'd called.

"Kid I need you to get up and get your aunt too. Pack some stuff, you guys are going to be staying with me."

He was up in a second, waking May and as she asked what was wrong Peter simply told her he didn't know. Trusting her nephew, she got up and tied her robe around her waist; packing as instructed.

It didn't take long for Happy and a few other agents to arrive, the men took their bags, but Peter straightened, ignoring Happy trying to pull him back as he went inside again. The drone following the boy's movement, Tony watching as he pulled out the metal casing that normally should hold his suit. Before reaching up and taking the suit and folding it. Head tilting at the absence of the drone, it made him jump when it landed on his shoulder.

He chuckled lightly before it was cut short. The open window finally catching his eye. He slowly walked towards the window, flinching when Happy called him from the doorway.

"C'mon kid, your aunts already in the car."

"Okay," Peter agreed softly. Walking away with Happy, the older man wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders. Leading him out of the apartment.

They walked out in silence, Happy looking both ways to make sure there was no real threat. And Peter shuffled into the car, May pulling the child close. Happy quickly pulling off, two other cars following.

Accepting his Aunt's hold, Peter yawned. Letting May's questions lull him back to sleep. Something he didn't get enough of. Happy sighed, "Someone, we don't know who. Threatened to give out Peter's information, knowing that he works with Tony."

He'd expected her to yell, she was pissed but simply ran her hands through Peter's hair.

"Can you find them?" May asked, looking in the rearview mirror.

"We're working on it, but they seem to know what they're doing."

The rest of the car ride was left to the sounds of Peter's soft breathing. When they arrived Tony was already opening the car door, a little surprised to see Peter asleep.

May unbuckled them both, lightly shaking Peter only for him to press further into her shoulder.

"I can take him in..." Tony offered, and she nodded softly. She could see the guilt on his face and helped Peter into the man's arms. His head lolling before burying his face into the inventor's throat.

May followed them in, greeting Pepper and congratulating them both on their engagement.

"We have a spare bedroom unless you'd like to stay with Peter in his own room."

"I'll take the guest bedroom," She supplied, and Pepper offered her something to drink. The two woman heading off to the kitchen, leaving Tony to take Peter up to his room. Carefully cradling him as he pulled back the covers and setting him down. Unable to stop his fretting, carefully tucking the covers around the small frame.

The photo flashing in his mind. Before his phone buzzed once again. Two photos this time, one of Peter pulling the case from the closet, a far shot. And another of Peter entering the car. A new text quickly appearing.

YOU CAN'T HIDE HIM FOREVER, AND FURTHERMORE, THOSE WITH FORCE WILL TAKE HIM. EITHER WAY, YOU CANNOT SAVE HIM FROM YOUR MISDEEDS.

Tony flinched, no, his misdeeds wouldn't dare lay a hand on the child with bright eyes and eternal optimism. And if it did, they'd truly see how heartless he could become.

"Goodnight kid," he whispered, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face before leaving him to sleep. May had been taken to her room by Pepper before the couple met back up in Tony's lab.

"You'll find them, won't you?" Pepper questioned, and he didn't respond.

"They want him to hurt me," He silently admitted. And Pepper sighed, before speaking up.

"Don't let them." Tony nodded then, not knowing if he'd be able too.

He didn't sleep that night, and Peter woke in the morning first. Idly meandering around his room, building a lego star wars speeder set, and even finishing an essay he had due. Sending it in knowing he'd likely miss the day anyway.

The knock on the door led to Tony coming in, Peter instantly noticed how tired his mentor looked.

"Hungry?" he asked, and Peter shrugged, nodding when he felt his stomach growl.

Tony smiled at that, leading the child to the kitchen. Peter leaning into his side, noticing how it calmed the inventor in a way. When Tony tried to start cooking, Peter gently tugged him to a seat. Noticing the sluggish movements, and got cooking himself.

"Peter," Tony protested, turning when Rhodey and Vision appeared.

"You're tired, and I know how to cook." Vision and Rhodey didn't know about the threats, and Vision eloquently said hello.

Rhodey happily speaking up, "You cooking breakfast underoos?"

He nodded, "Yeah, Morning."

Rhodey stepped in, giving a hug to Peter, and plucked out the pancake mix.

The two working in tandem, as they cooked. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, Peter using the second half of the hot plate for some french toast. Tony wearily watching the two, turning to look at Pepper when he felt her hands brace his shoulders. May wasn't far behind and sat at the table. Talking with Vision, no matter how weird it was at first.

Once their meal was completed, Tony


	7. The devil cares for his spider friend -Unfinished-

The sound of his bones breaking never stopped being surreal. You never really stop to think that's your bone breaking in two. It's your ribs that crumbled beneath the cool metal of a baseball bat. Denying he couldn't breathe while screaming in agony. Unable to get up.

A previous blow to the head left his ears ringing, the men's pained grunts and swoosh of air broke the silence. Peter wearily lifting his head to find the source of their pain. Praying it meant none more for him. A relieved smile broke out on the boy's face until his brows furrowed in confusion.

What was the Matt doing here?

Voice gruff in his persona the Devil came close, bending on his knees. Now level with the teenaged super-hero, "What are you doing out here?" This wasn't anywhere near Queens at all. The pressure on Peter's chest left him little room to answer, hoping his friend understood his shrug. It'd been such a long night, he hadn't even known he made the half-hour trip to hell.

The older vigilante felt the cool air shift around the boy's movement, listening closely to the obstructed lungs wearily contract. Desperately close to collapsing. With a quick and precise movement, the teenage hero was in his arm, adjusted to give his airway more room. Whispering quiet instructions to keep him breathing.

Peter Parker could lie and disobey any human you put in front of him, his Aunt, his friends, Tony Stark. But if there was one person he'd listen to until the end, and always tell the truth too. It was Matt.

The devil knew of this, knew the trust and certainty thrust upon his person. He'd promised to always come for the boy, and he had. Peter had been introduced to a plethora of new heroes. Even since the Vulture, he hadn't been able to even look at Iron-Man or his assistant.

Running at every phone call, finding a new route home to avoid the man's car. Fleeing as soon as a fight was over and Iron-Man was on the scene.

When a certain Hank Pym heard about a smart Spider that a certain millionaire abandoned, he'd made his suits. The other member of team red Wade ruthlessly trained the boy. And Negasonicteenagewarhead and Peter often texted to their heart's content. After school Peter would take the train to the office, helping him sort through files, reading the papers to him when they'd forgotten to convert them to brail.

He'd gained a family, and he was on the top. A sentiment Matt realized he shared, as he arrived at the towering building with a circular glass pane shown through the top. Before he could knock the doors opened, A red cloak trying desperately to wrap around the injured spider, Doctor Strange quickly appearing before him.

Strange handled almost all of Peter's injuries, even some of Matt's own when it was too much for Claire. The two had become accustomed to each other's presence, Peter needing Matt there to keep him calm. Medicine running through his veins, never long enough to numb the pain.

The devil holding his hand tightly, his free hand running through Peter's hair. Tears leaking down the boy's cheek's, his eyes squeezed shut. Matt had never been the best at comfort, constantly acting on impulse. It didn't help that Peter tried to hide himself away, but Peter was young, taking the comfort he needed when it became too much.

Several recollections of Peter throwing himself into his arms, sobbing and shaking. The young heart crying with every beat, almost always screaming he wasn't good enough, and that the rubble was too heavy. Only then did he know what to do, hold him close and promise he was not alone. He'd never be alone.

\---

The fifteen-year-old lay wrapped in the king-sized bed, swaddled in silk. The symbolism lighting the devils face with a smirk. His fingers carefully removing a few loose strands from the boy's face, Matt removing his own mask and retiring to the nice leather couch in the living room. The sound of Peter's cries still resonating in his head, and as he drifted to sleep. His fingers twitched as if he was still holding his hand.


	8. Infinity war, Tony mourning -Drabble-

Tony listened to the kid's daily reports, lips quirking at the pattern. Always a robbery or some car chase, or something as simple as someone dropping their lunch and the poor boy feeling bad enough to buy them another.

"Anyways, I have to go, something seems weird," Peter informed in the recording before it ended. Sipping his scotch Tony pulled himself up from the plush chair that had moved to accommodate him over the past few hours screamed for him to come back.

"Tony, you coming to bed?" Pepper asked, drawing his attention. Their baby in her arms and Tony couldn't help the tear that fell from his eye at the sight. Pepper stepped forward, seeing the date of the tape that had played seconds ago on the tablet.

"I know you miss him," She whispered, it'd been months since the war with Thanos. It'd been months since Peter Parker had died in her husband's arms. It's been a few months since they had their child and adequately named him after the boy as not to forget him. As if Tony ever could.

She hadn't known if naming their son after the boy was a good idea, burdening the child with someone he'd always have to live up to because Peter Parker was everything Tony could have ever asked for in a child. So, Peter was a middle name to the little boy. Yet she often feared even that was too much.

"Yeah," Tony breathed, moving to take his little boy into his arms. Wondering how excited Peter would have been to meet his son, to babysit and play with while they were busy.

"He would have...if he had stayed behind...wouldn't he?" Tony whispered, more tears falling from his eyes. And Pepper nodded, Peter would have died both in and out of the fight and there was nothing that Tony could have done to save him.

"You know, I can't think of how grateful he was to have you there with him," Pepper spoke, having the man of Iron's eyes hit hers so hard she could see his emotions bubbling behind his irises.

"And I'm sure he thought so too,"

"No-no he begged, he begged-"

"Tony, would you have wanted him to disappear at school. Even more afraid?" Sniffling Tony shook his head no, pressing a kiss to his son's head.

"Why him? It could have taken me, he didn't deserve that,"

"And to Peter, you hung the moon. I think he'd argue you didn't deserve that," She whispered.

"No my opinion matters more, therefore he deserved to be here,"

 


	9. Shyan Angel/Demon Au

He'd been around the bend countless times, seen what seemingly was the birth of the universe and will inevitably see the end of it too. That is if something didn't take him out first, but that wasn't likely.

He'd been the first of lucifers angels to become a demon, he'd never once felt as if he'd belonged as an angel. Apparently being snarky, and a skeptic was not a trait of the angels. And he could argue to the other angels that they were all made perfect even in their differences, but if Shane knew one trait that most if not all angels carried, it was ignorance.

It was one of the reasons he'd been so keen on leaving. Sure he missed the freedom of flight. But now that he had a freedom unlike another, he couldn't help but detest the soft white feathers. An illusion of strength, serenity, and freedom.

An illusion. It was hard not to pity the poor fools. But the age of angels and demons had been cut short and torn apart all because of the creation of the angels without wings. Humans, in Shane's opinion they were there for his own gain. They fed him through their fear and provided him with some much-needed entertainment over the years.

And since demons/angels/humans couldn't coerce, he'd been hiding out as a human. And it'd been dull in ways, so he built himself a life, as Shane Madej.

He'd been surprised when he'd found himself in Buzzfeed, who harbored a witch named Sarah, and the holiest creature of them all. An angel. Though his wings were hidden, he didn't seem to realize them at all.

He didn't know what he was. Understandably, because Ryan Bergara was not an ignorant being, nor was he the pillar of strength and bravery all the other angels claimed to be.

He was small, certainly smaller than he, panicky in his ways, awkwardly adorable. Oblivious to his charm, his angelic warmth that caught all its gravitational pull.

Including himself, even if he dared not admit it.

"Hey, Bigfoot?" Ryan called with a toothy grin, holding an extra coffee out to the taller man.

Shane quickly came back to himself before he gave a laugh, accepting the drink offered.

"You good their buddy?" Ryan chuckled, and Shane gave back his own signature smile.

"Yup!"

 

 


	10. Infinity War Drabble

Doctor strange realistically knew they wouldn’t all survive and when the device began its descent instantly he ordered the closest hero to lock on. Get inside. Give them a chance. And sadly it had been the 15 year old hero that the man of Iron cared so dearly for.

“I can do it!” Peter affirmed shakily through the coms, holding on as it began its decent into the sky.

Tony roaring through the comms, “Peter no!” Worriedly looking to the sorcerer because he knew he wouldn’t be able to get to Peter in time.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark,” The boy apologized as they shot into the sky, the pressure on his lungs unbearable, especially when he tore off his mask. Blocking out the screams of his mentor.

With a sharp exhale of pain and grief escaping him, he managed to break a latch open and crawl inside. Never once sure he’d ever see his hero again, even if he could still hear the man’s pained screams through the comms before him and the ship were shot out of range and he was on his own.

 _Alone_.


	11. A small wound Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hehe

“Ow!” Peter whined lightly, quickly moving his hand away from the sparking wire that had shocked him. Tony’s head snapped up from his own project from across the lab at the sound. Rushing to the kids side, and grabbing the boy’s wrist before he could even look at the damage. Tony sighed at the red skin on the tips of his fingers. Lightly raw but otherwise fine, but definitely hurt.

“You're benched from the lab today kid,” he stated, startling the boy.

“What? Mr. Stark it’s not that bad. I promise,” Tony lightly squeezed the raw fingers at the comment causing another wince and Peter made another noise in protest although it was muffled by his other hand.

“Alright,” the boy then relented, allowing Tony to lead him from the lab and out the elevator. His hand firmly grasping the boy’s wrist, all the way until they reached the kitchen where Tony wrapped the boy's finger tips and sent the boy to sit on the couch so they could spend the rest of the day watching a movie.


	12. The wings to enervate drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Funny story the wings to enervate i had thought of before spiderman had even actually come out and after i kinda thought more about it. but at first this was like the first little idea i had for it.

Choking on the blood rising up his throat Peter barely looked up, the rubble then was being lifted by the very man who trapped him beneath it. Toomes. Peter whimpered, the man's claw's dropping onto his bruised back. Closing around his shoulder's before Toomes lifted him into the air. Peter could wearily make out the plane, Toomes had won. _He'd lost._ And he was going to die. Whether it be from blood loss, or by the Vulture himself, he knew it'd be slow. 

The higher they flew, the thinner the air had become. No longer able to take a breath, Peter fell into unconsciousness.

 


	13. Don't go -Unfinished-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh i had no idea what this was for so ill likely push this into a new story but here's something small and really old

"Peter," Tony raised his voice, looking down at his son. The tears in the 15-year-old's eyes just begging him not to leave. No telling if his father would come back.

"Dad let me go with you," Peter begged, heart hammering in his chest just reaching toward his father.

"Dammit," Tony growled, head falling before bracing his son's face in his hands.

"They're going to hurt you if I don't," He said softer, using his thumbs to wipe away the boy's tears.

"But you'll be here," Peter whispered, hands coming up to hold his father's arms.

 


	14. A broken clock is right twice a day -Unfinished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> COMPARISON BETWEEN WONDER WOMAN AND STEPHEN STRANGE AND THEIR BROKEN WATCHES

He'd met her in one of the many universes he'd visited, and she certainly wasn't the first god he'd come across. She certainly held herself differently than the rest. She knew her reason to fight, with proven selflessness which in a way set them apart.

It would have, after Dormammu, he'd realized he'd live in death if he kept the people of earth alive. But she hadn't needed those circumstances, she'd been ready to fight for the earth from the start. Although that hope had been diminished, it was quickly born again at the death of a loved one.

And with his death, she held something that signified both of their existence.

A broken watch. It ruled their lives. They'd spoken once before about why it did. She held the watch to her lips when trying to explain, and he often wasn't the man to listen to such heartfelt chatter but he did.

 


	15. Drabble Infinity War, Broken Time

The teen’s body lay broken, propped up on the rubble around Titan. The bodies of the guardians were strewn about. Quil’s body torn in two, Mantis’ back broken so badly her spine was standing proudly through the twisted and mangled carcass.

Drax was no better, impaled in many places, head split open comically wide and the teen couldn’t breathe at the sight of it all. Couldn’t move with his legs so broken and torn the feeling in them had slowly started to fall away.

His lungs burned and stomach churned, blood sizzling, rising in him. Falling from his lips, emptying through his many scapes and tears. The side of his head on top of his ear positively gushing, making his vision blur as the blood travelling along his hair dripped down his face.

Wetting his eyelashes and causing the already blurry world to take on a crimson hue. His right arm was tucked to his chest, bone broken in more than one place. Swollen, and aching. His nose ached, crooked and bleeding.

The fight around them continued, Mr. Stark and Doctor Strange doing god knows what. Peter wanted to call out for his mentor, wanted to be afraid but he...he wasn’t. The pain although at first was excruciating, held tight somehow but it had settled in the background.

His thoughts were above all.

A second latter the ground in front of him was being scuffed by Iron Man, as he was thrown to the ground. Suit clanking, and Peter’s ears although ringing could pick up the sounds of the man’s joints popping and his ribs breaking.

If it made the inventor feel any better, his had broken and impaled themselves into his organs causing his chest cavity to fill. The man of Iron shook his head, as if it’d make the pain go away before stopping short as they met eyes.

Peter at least thought they did, the distorted and flurried face of metal in front of his was blurred to the point he wasn’t entirely sure where the suits eyes were. The light they gave off only made the metal around it glare.

“Peter!” The name sounded breathless, terrified on the older man’s lips. The helmet retracted, and the inventor quickly encroached on the teen’s space. Armored hands hovering over the teen’s wounds, not knowing what to do. 

“Mr. Stark,” the teen gurgled, coughing and sputtering. But smiling nonetheless at the sight of the man. Even though he really didn’t want him to see what was coming. What his spider sense was nagging him about.

“No,” the man growled, armor retracting around his arm so he could cup the boy’s tender cheek. “Please not this,”

The teen could hear Strange struggling with Thanos and sighed, hazy eyes locking onto the man in front of him. 

“Go, he can’t do it alone,” Peter urged, not knowing how else to tell the man he didn’t want him to witness his death.

“I’m not leaving you,” Tony barked, and Peter could feel the man trembling from where the man was holding him.

The spider grinned sadly, “I know you’re not, but I don’t want you to see this,” the boy admitted. Not wanting to lie in his last moments. Especially to his hero.

A choked sob escaped the inventor at that, tears falling from both their eyes.

“Kid you’re not dying,” The older Avenger urged, sobbing. Rocks and shrapnel flew throughout the air, the elder Avenger quickly crouching over the smaller body to protect him.

Strange screamed for help, and Peter whimpered. Pressing at the inventor, “Go!” he urged, falling into a fit where blood pooled and fell down his chin.

“Pe-” 

“Stark!”

The inventor cringed, both hands moving to cup the boy’s face and pressing a kiss to the kids hairline, “Stay awake Pete, we’re going to fix this. I’ll be right back,”

Stephen came crashing nearby, as Tony jetted off to continue his fight with Thanos. Peter could barely turn his head, Doctor Strange’s body was barely in his peripheral. He could tell because the blur of blue was darker than Drax’s skin. And Peter even with his eyes shot could see the bright red of the sentient cape lining the body.

Another red seeped below, and Peter could vaguely see the man moving. Strange levitated the stone around his neck, passing it on to the young hero and hid it in the teen’s lap. Casting the same spell he’d used on himself to keep it safe before the movements stopped.

Peter’s spider sense screaming that just then the man had died.

“Goodbye Dad,” Peter whispered, as he caught sight of his inventor in the air. His eyelids flutterings before the life in his eyes disappeared. 

\---

Stumbling the inventor, drenched in the titans blood dropped in front of the boy. Breaking into a fit of sobs at the cooling body. Slipping the dead weight into his arms, the inventor screamed into his ‘sons’ hair. 

“No, dammit. Dammit! Why didn’t you just listen to me?” 

The bloodied form didn’t respond of course, but the cape did. It rushed over, trying to rub against his cheek in an act of comfort. Only for him to swipe the thing from mid air, and throw it towards the dirt but it quickly caught itself. 

Backing away to give them space, but watching sadly nonetheless. Giving the man time to grieve, as he cradled the boy. Rocking them back and forth, as the inventor shook with his sobs until the cloak couldn’t take it any longer.

It rushed forward, the inventor nearly screaming at the action as if it was about to hurt the already dead child. The cloak wrapped around the eye of Agamotto, lifting it up into inventor’s hands.

Opening up, and revealing the stone Tony had just killed the mad Titan to protect. The same stone Peter had died for too, among other things. Time. It was the time stone, Tony realized. Before scanning around to the gauntlet holding the other stones Thanos had managed to get his hands on.

He could fix this. 

Placing the necklace on, Tony closed his eyes and buried his face in the boy’s hair.

“Bring him back to me,” 

The world did. 


	16. I've become so numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk why i wanted peter to be mad at tony after the vulture but i have so many things in my heart constantly telling me peter deserves to have feelings that seem so overlooked
> 
> this takes place after homecoming

It wasn't okay, the blood falling from his lips, the crashed plane on the beach, and the family he'd just destroyed. His legs burned as the bones ground together. The broken appendages only working because after he'd pulled himself from the collapsed building he'd webbed them up. 

Screaming as every step sent a jolt up his legs. Meaning he was stuck using his arms to crawl down the rollercoaster, limbs shaking. In his haze Peter didn’t know where he was going. If he really wanted to know, he could have followed the trail of blood and figured out from that, but he could only fall to his knees. Wincing and sobbing. Alone in an alley, where leaky pipes dripped. The small noise screaming into his concussed head and pulling more tears from his eyes.

Had catching the Vulture really been the right thing to do?  No. He wouldn't have felt so bad if it was. Digging the palms of his hands into his eyes, the teen fought the urge to scream until he choked to death on his own blood.

  
He hated how much he was considering it.

\---

Tony groaned when his phone started to ring, wondering why in the hell someone was calling him now. Right in the middle of the project he was working on too.

“Boss?” Happy’s voice came through as he answered the call.

“Happy?”

“The kid was right about the Vulture,” The man admitted sadly, unable to see the inventor straighten up. Eyes wide with fear.

“What do you mean?” The inventor was already suiting up, trying to pull up the planes destination and current flight path and location. Nothing came up and the inventor’s brow furrowed.

“The kid went after the Vulture, they crashed the plane on the beach. Vulture’s here, his names Adrian Toomes. But the kid’s gone, he left the guy gift wrapped for us though,”

“I’m on the way,” 

\---

Peter after god knows how long, crawled up the side of the building and basked in the fact the roof didn’t have any access. Meaning no one would be able to get to him. Settling, the teen curled up, body protesting. 

Eyelids fluttering, the exhaustion pulling at him until he submitted. Aches and pain keeping him under, not even flinching when the man of Iron landed beside him. 


	17. The ceasing of silence (Unfinished)

If there was one thing Tony knew, it was he was going to murder Doctor Doom. He wasn’t going to kill him because the man had managed to damage his suit and break Rhodey’s legs even though his friend insisted it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to his legs before. The comment didn’t help the inventor’s flumox of emotions, and neither did his protege’s screams.

Peter was why he was going to kill Doctor Doom. That bastard had known with the other Avengers gone, in fact apparently they’d lost a fight against Doom not long ago, that he’d bring other reinforcements.

Spider-Man must have been exactly what Doom had been expecting, because when Peter arrived the man had a weapon he’d been itching to try out, and Doom was just as smart as him meaning it’d worked. Almost too well.

Karen had shorted out immediately, cutting off their communication but that didn’t matter because the scream that pierced the air was loud enough for him to hear as he dashed towards the red and blue figure that had then fallen from the sky.

The inventors thoughts were cut off as he felt another shrill scream against his shoulder. The teen’s small body was flush against his own, the inventor unwilling to let the boy suffer on his own.

“I know kid, I know,” It’d been three full days of the boy’s system cramping, brain firing at different levels of random pains that couldn’t be alleviated. Some pains were easily brushed off, Tony used those times to encourage the boy to eat only for a stronger pain to force it all back up.

Rhodey came by every once in a while to change out the bucket on the side of the bed, but it’d been empty for some time. Peter deciding after he’d thrown up on his mentor he’d rather not eat especially since it only made him feel worse.

Tony tightened his hold on the small body, his own eyes squeezing shut at the guttural and painfully hoarse scream being pressed against his skin. His hand tangling in the boy’s hair, securing him closer in his arms as the boy screamed his throat raw. 

There wasn’t much Tony could even say and he hated it, whatever Peter had been hit with had to run its course. The avenger assumed that wouldn’t have taken long with Peter’s metabolism but they were on day four.

Tony had almost believed he’d gone deaf when the sound of the kid’s cries ceased, his shoulder also wasn’t shaking with the rumbling of the boy’s cries either. A very good sign. Looking down at the small form, the inventor’s frown was more pronounced at the sight.

The teen’s red eyes were barely open, his dry lips parted for weak breaths to slip through. The kid was exhausted, so much so he couldn’t even pull in a full breath.

“Maybe this is a good time to get some food in you,” Tony tried, the teen weakly whimpering at the suggestion.

“I know you don’t want to Pete, but kid if you don’t eat I’m going to have to set an IV, and a banana bag,” Tony cringed when that resulted with more tears.

“I don’t wanna throw up again,” he could barely understand the teen, his voice was wrecked.

“I know, it’ll be something light Pete okay? You need to eat,” He could tell the boy was using all his strength to shake his head. Tony ignored it even when it hurt him to do so, pulling them both into a sitting position the boy groaned.

Peter was no longer crying in pain, but in fear against his chest, “I don’t wanna throw up again, I don’t wanna, please Mr. Stark, I don’t wanna,” it hurt the inventor, especially as he could feel the kid wobbling and shaking in his effort to plea for mercy.

“Friday have someone bring some chicken enchilada soup,” It would be filling and nutritious without it being too much effort for Peter to get down his throat.

“Please Mr. Stark, please,” the teen continued to cry, small hands tangling into the older man’s tank top. Tony held the kid closer, his soft shushing doing nothing to deter the boy’s insistent cries.

The inventors foot tapped against the floor, willing whoever to bring the food to hurry up. The pain might be weak now but it wouldn’t last, and if Peter didn’t eat now there was no way of knowing when the pain would be dull enough for him to eat again.

“Someone order soup?” Rhodey called, holding a steaming styrofoam take out box in his hand. A large bottle of cool water tucked beneath his arm. 

“Yes,” Tony answered with a relieved smile, taking the box and the drink. Hyperfocusing on opening the box and then the little plastic lid over the bowl of soup. In doing so he missed the saddened look that bloomed on his friends face as he overheard the teen’s cries.

“Alright Pete,” Tony wanted to hate himself for having to force the boy to eat, but it was for Peter’s own good. He knew Peter understood that just as well as he did. But it’s much easier not to rationalize things when you know it will cause pain.

Once Tony had the spoon raised Peter sagged, accepting his fate. The soup felt nice down his abused throat, it’s warmth a better heat than the burning cramps that’d come every now and again, and was much more welcoming than the cold cramps in his hands and feet.

The chicken was chewy enough not to annoy his teeth or gums, luckily the tortilla chips were on the side and Tony hadn’t put them in. He didn’t think he could chew on the red and black pieces.

The teen managed to get the whole bowl down, sipping at the cold water next only to sputter. The chill a deterrent to the warmth pooling in his stomach.

“Just a few more sips Pete, you can drink the rest later,” the teen complied not that Tony gave him much of a choice as he pressed the bottle back up to his lips. Rhodey watched the scene only for a moment before taking the bowl and styrofoam casing. 

“Can you tell me where the pain is, and how bad is it?”

“My hands,” the teen flexed his fingers, Tony picking up easily on how taxing the small action was. The smaller pale hands were tinged in the slightest pink, the small movements strained and shaking.

“It’s not that bad, just cramped,” Peter’ burrowed closer to the inventor, small chuffs shaking him as he recovered from his earlier breakdown.


	18. Some thousands of eyes are watching (Unfinished)

A plush couch is where the teen resided, wrapped in a soft blanket that brushed against his bruised arms and hugged him in assurance. The sky beamed with the bright weekend sun, urging the teen to hide back under the covers where the sun’s radiance could no longer disturb his sleep.

A deep chuckle met the air, the noise only making the teen curl up further. “If you’re trying to go back to sleep Pete, maybe don’t sleep in the room mostly made up of windows with no curtains in sight,”

The teen grumbled at his mentor, sitting up, the blanket acting as a hood. Tony smiled at the sight, ruffling the hooded head only to get a sleepy protest that didn’t sound very convincing. 

“Are you going to help me out with my suit today?” The younger brunettes head bobbed, tired lanky legs lifting him from the couch. Tony’s keen eyes didn’t fail to notice the wobble in the boy’s step, but was more amused with the blanket dragging on the floor behind him.

The air of sleep surrounding the teen was worrisome, so much so, Tony started to question his judgement about having Peter help him out today. 

“Wait a minute kiddo,” he called out, the blanket hooded figure turned to him, looking up at him before yawning. Of course, it was contagious and he found himself yawning as well. Peter was still looking at him once he recovered.

Albeit now that Tony really took the kid in, his decision to keep the boy out of the lab today was proven to be a smart one. The boy’s large eyes were tinged red, dark bags pillowing beneath, the area around pale and sunken in.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” The shrug Tony got in return only made the man’s lips slump further into a frown. Placing a grounding hand on the boy’s slumped shoulder, Tony began leading him away from the lab’s doors, the teen sputtering in protest that weren’t convincing in the slightest.

Stopping at the door to the boy’s room, Tony gave him a pointed look causing the boy’s rambling to cease. 

“Go back to bed Pete, I can’t have you nodding off on my tables. Drool stains you know?” The wry smile on the boy’s face was a win in the inventors book.

“Okay,” The teen shifted an inch closer, head down before he turned and awkwardly shuffled into the room, the door shutting behind him. Tony passed it up for the kid being tired and stalked back to the lab.

A broken web shooter lay on his desk, Rhino having managed to break it when he flung the boy by his wrist into the nearest fruit stand the other day. Often it was Peter who did the work on his web shooters, but with the kid sleeping Tony took it upon himself to repair the cracked canister for the fluid in his webbing and the band to keep it secure around the boy’s wrist.

As he tweaked the latch, the teen’s earlier movement replaying in his mind again and again until the reasoning came to light. 

_ Peter had moved to hug him. _

A wave of some emotion he couldn’t quite place crashed over him, he’d never been good with these things. Affection was a hard earned commodity growing up, and the little affection gifted to him at most was a kiss on the cheek from his mother and a glance from his father.

It didn’t seem right for him to kiss the kids cheek, especially if he couldn’t even hug the kid. He also couldn’t put Peter through the tough love his father had done with him. Tony, at least to himself, could admit he loved the kid. 

Peter was as close to a son he’d ever have, and Tony wasn’t blind nor was he oblivious. Hero worship could only go so far after all, it didn’t help Peter had very valid reasons for taking him up as a father figure.

Peter had lost his own dad when he was very young, those shoes then being filled by his uncle. Tony knew the man had been killed in an accident, one that in someway was correlated with Peter which explained the guilt complex.

So really Tony shouldn’t be so surprised that Peter latched onto him in such a way, he was here acting as a mentor. A role the more Tony looked at it seemed more and more like another word for father or mother, or whatever guardianship role that applied.

That didn’t make it any easier to believe. 

\---


	19. The stab heard around the world (unfinished)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be petes reaction in endgame to seeing tony stabbed

Peter really did feel bad about not knowing their names, especially as he was forced to catch their mostly unconscious forms midair while weaving through debris as his mentor and Doctor Strange continued to battle it out with the mad titan.

His spider sense had been screaming, it telling him to get back to his mentor now. That was why he was here, to protect his mentor. This was the time to do it, he knew it. Doctor Strange came flying by, Peter trying his best to make sure the man’s head didn’t crack as he caught him seconds before he could make contact with the rubble around him.

The inventor continued to fight alone, the stress of it making the boy’s fingers go numb. 


	20. Dialogue therapy pic (Unfinished)

“I’ve always been scared, I don’t know when it started. I guess before mom and dad died I wasn’t, but I don’t remember that. I don’t remember what I felt then, and I don’t even remember their faces. Just there shoes because they were just so tall compared to me at the time,”

“I do remember the day they died though, they’d dropped my off at Ben and May’s and I had been crying because I didn’t want them to go. I didn’t want them to leave me with people I barely knew,”

“Ben had to pick me so I didn’t toddle off after them, when I think about it I still can feel his sad laughter rumbling against my back. After when the news came on I can still see Ben’s hand coming over his face as he exhaled so roughly I heard it over May’s scream,”

“It was Ben who explained what had happened, the plane crashed and mom and dad weren’t ever coming home. Everything he said was followed by May’s crying, but even being so young I understood. I didn’t cry though. I’d cried when they left and I guess I just didn’t have any more tears left at the time,”

“Ben didn’t cry either, his eyes were watery though. And I can still remember how every wrack of my aunt's body had him flinching. I don’t know why but at the time I focused on him more than anything. Even after things had settled my Uncle was everything to me,”

“He was always that person who seemed to have all the answers. He was perfect. So much so growing up sometimes hurt. Ben was a great cop, loved his job, loved to help people. I know he hated having the gun on his belt though,”

“He used to tell me, ‘With great power comes with great responsibility,’ I knew he meant the gun and badge everytime. But he also meant more than that and it took me such a long time to finally understand, and when I thought I did I was wrong. But i’ll get back to that,”

“I know Ben never asked me to do sports or anything, and he was always so proud of how smart I was. But I remember when his cop buddies would come over while May was either busy or out and I was building a new lego set, they’d tease him,”

“Asking if he had a problem raising a kid with no meat on his bones. Laughing that I would never know how to even throw a football, I don’t know if Ben ever wanted those things. Sometimes I swear I can remember him asking me if I wanted to play catch but that could just be in my imagination,’

“You know? When you think something enough you can almost believe it actually happened? Yeah, maybe it was just that. I felt odd around people after that. Less ideal for anyone. But Ben and May never did want kids, May more than Ben I think. But as long as they were together I don’t think Ben cared too much,”

“I guess I just wish I was as strong as him when I was younger. Maybe then everything would be different. Maybe not that different though, because Ben got switched to the night shift. Normally he used to stay home with me at night because May always worked nights.”

“They got me a babysitter, his name was Skip. It took me at least a month to warm up to him, I was having such a hard time with people. It only got worse after Skip though. He’d come into my room, and I’d wake up to his hands all over me.”

“It’d go farther than hat, but I’d rather not go into detail. Ben came home early one night though, in the middle of it. It’d been going on for like three months, but Ben couldn’t afford a therapist and I didn’t talk to any of the counselors they brought me too,”

“I was scared too, I was scared of everyone. I still am, I just got better at hiding it. It’s like everytime I walked into a room, everyone was looking at me. Everything I hated about myself I could swear was being said by everyone around me,”

“School was bad too, mainly Flash.  


End file.
